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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368354">Distant Stars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/campitor/pseuds/campitor'>campitor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Developing Relationship, Multi, Open Relationships, Pern!AU, Slow Burn, what if they had DRAGONS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:13:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28368354</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/campitor/pseuds/campitor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as it says on the tin: a self-indulgent Dragonriders of Pern AU for the Expanse, complete with telepathic dragons and all that jazz.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amos Burton/Jim Holden, Amos Burton/Naomi Nagata, Camina Drummer/Naomi Nagata, Jim Holden/Naomi Nagata</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Greetings! This is a pretty self-indulgent fic combining The Expanse with the series I love to hate and hate to love, the Dragonriders of Pern! With my own custom remix (read: disassembly) of Pern canon to basically make it less heteronormative, less caste-based, and more just about people and their rad dragons. I hope you enjoy! If you've never read a Pern book, feel free to ask me questions. I try to explain everything but I also didn't want to make the chapter super boring. This fic won't be updated as often as my other fics, but I do have a second chapter almost done.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He and Finlith, they had a special spot. It was a cold mountain stream that was far, far away from Tycho Weyr. They had to travel <em>between</em> to reach it and sometimes, when they were cutting it close for training, they had to travel <em>between</em> times. They weren’t supposed to, but it wasn’t terribly difficult, especially when it was only minutes and not years. Finlith had a good sense of temporal direction. Holden knew that he would never let them get lost.</p><p>Finlith knew to land on the bank of the stream so that Holden didn’t have to wade into the cold water. The chill didn’t seem to bother the big dragon; he plunged in eagerly, submerging his head until just his nostrils sat above the surface. Finlith would roll his leathery skin against the stones to clean himself, and Holden would daydream or doze beneath the trees that circled the shore. It was their ritual, something just for them. Holden liked to joke that maybe Finlith was a water-wyrm in a past life, and Finlith always insisted, rather indignantly, that he had always been a dragon.</p><p>He had been sitting against the trunk of a tree, eyes shut against the bright sunlight, when he heard the dragon make a delighted chittering noise. &lt;Oh, look,&gt; came Finlith’s voice in Holden’s mind. &lt;Look, Jim. Look at this.&gt;</p><p>Holden sighed, then stretched and stood. He walked over to the bank where Finlith had placed a round, flat stone. The brown dragon was eyeing it curiously, rotating it this way and that with one of his long claws. Holden flipped it over for him when he had trouble hooking his talon underneath it. &lt;Isn’t it just the most spectacular shape,&gt; Finlith marveled. &lt;Isn’t the color just wonderful?&gt;</p><p>To Holden, the rock looked like a rock. It was a pretty shade of orangeish-brown, he supposed, but nothing terribly special. Nonetheless, Finlith was regarding it with his multi-faceted eyes, which had turned a molten amber with his careful study. Holden patted a hand against his smooth, damp neck.</p><p>&lt;Would you like to keep it?&gt; he asked the great beast. Finlith’s eyes whirled, growing brighter with his delight.</p><p>&lt;Oh, yes. Yes, add it to the rest. It will make a fine addition to the collection.&gt; Carefully, the dragon nudged the stone closer to Holden. He picked it up and slid it into the inner breast pocket of his leather riding jacket.</p><p>&lt;You can’t keep every rock you find,&gt; he chided.</p><p>Finlith tilted his head this way and that. &lt;I do not keep every one. I pick the best ones. Otherwise, I would pick up every rock in this stream and ask you to carry it home for me.&gt;</p><p>Holden laughed at that. “I guess so,” he said aloud. Finlith eyed him curiously and then resumed his bath.</p><p>It was peaceful for a little while. Finlith kept a running commentary in his mind, but Holden was so used to his companion’s voice that he found it soothing. Dragons, his instructors had told him, lived in the here and now. They could learn from their past, but they had little concept of the future. That was why humans and dragons were well-suited for each other—humans could only ever think about the past or worry about the future, whereas dragons only ever thought of the present. Finlith narrated their surroundings, noting the small details that Holden would have never seen. There were small silver fish in the cold water, and the sun was lower in the sky today. There was a cloud above them that looked like the hoof of a runner-beast, and another that had the shape of an egg. Finlith narrated, and Holden dozed.</p><p>&lt;Oh,&gt; Finlith said at some point, lifting his head from the water and gazing skyward. &lt;There are others coming.&gt;</p><p>Holden opened his eyes as Finlith flashed him an image of a pair of dragons approaching rapidly. They were very large, and Holden had a sinking suspicion of who they were. When the sun hit their hides, their golden and bronze coloration confirmed his fears.</p><p>&lt;It is Basuth and Keth, Jim.&gt; Finlith confirmed. The drake shook himself dry and scurried up to join Holden on the bank of the stream. He curled himself around his rider possessively, his large front claws folded like a person might fold their hands. Holden leaned against his warm bulk and patted one of his forehands reassuringly as the two dragons came in for a landing.</p><p>Basuth’s size always impressed Holden. Her claws were wickedly long, and Holden knew from watching her hunt that she kept them sharp. As a gold queen dragon, she was one of the very few females capable of laying eggs and the largest in size compared to all of the other colors of dragon, and she demanded respect wherever she went. Basuth was also the most senior queen at Tycho, and she and her rider, Amos, had the dubious pleasure of having two younger queens and their riders to mentor.</p><p>Finlith seemed to shrink into himself as she approached, cowed by her rank. As a brown dragon, he was smaller than both Basuth and Keth, a bronze. Holden tried to offer him some comfort, but Finlith couldn’t help if old instincts told him to be wary of the larger beasts. Holden was a little wary of them too, after all.</p><p>The great gold dragon stirred up dust as she landed a little way away from them. Immediately, Basuth’s dark red eyes cast Holden and Finlith with a critical stare. The rider on her back was gazing at them too, though his face bore a lazy smile rather than hostility. Shortly after, Keth landed as well, quickly laying out a forelimb so that his rider, Naomi, could climb down, before he sprawled out lazily on the bank.</p><p>Basuth hesitated until the rider on her back pressed a soothing hand to her neck. Then, she too helped her charge down. The burly man caressed one of her big claws and then the gold queen slithered into the cold water with an indignant huff.</p><p>“Holden,” Naomi said warmly. She walked over so that she could sit on a stone not too far from where he sat with Finlith. Holden straightened his spine as his superior approached. “And here we thought that this was our secret.”</p><p>Holden balked. “We were just about to leave…”</p><p>“No, you weren’t,” the big man said, watching his beast closely. His gaze clicked over to coolly regard Naomi and Holden.</p><p>Holden shivered. Amos was a bit of an oddity among the riders. He was not the typical sort that a gold queen Impressed, but, then again, Basuth was not a typical queen. Holden had heard once that she would cull her own clutches of eggs, smashing the ones she felt were too small. He still wasn’t sure if that was a story made up by some of the other riders, or if it was the truth. It seemed like a terrible waste if it was true. He still remembered the sight of her rising for her last mating flight. She had captured five of the oxen that they kept for the dragons and sucked them each dry of blood, and then shrieked and snarled at the bronze dragons that had leapt aloft to try and win her affections. Mating flights were supposed to be joyous days, celebrations of the natural life cycle of the weyr. Whenever Basuth rose to fly, it always felt like an eerily morbid occasion. Holden glanced over at her. She kept a careful watch over proceedings as she bathed, her tail lashing the water to a froth. She was nearly twice Finlith’s size.</p><p>Naomi cast Amos a look that was rich with meaning that Holden couldn’t decipher. “We don’t want to hold you up, but you’re welcome to sit with us. It’s a nice day.”</p><p>&lt;Oh, it is!&gt; Finlith exclaimed to them all. Holden swallowed a bit of embarrassment at his overeager companion, but Naomi just grinned up at the dragon.</p><p>Naomi Nagata was the weyrleader, in charge of the Thread-fighting formations and the general wellbeing of the dragon weyr. She was a good leader, Holden thought. She expected those in her flying formation to work hard, but she and Keth led by example. Plus, she had a clever mind and frequently collaborated with the miners and smiths to improve the infrastructure of the weyr. In the past few years, they had gotten a system for transporting heated water, a more consistently heated sand pit for the queens to lay eggs in, and improved flamethrowers for the formation of gold dragons that Amos commanded. She was the type of person who constantly sought to improve her surroundings, and Holden thought she achieved that goal. He and Finlith held a lot of respect for her and Keth.</p><p>Admittedly, Holden felt self-conscious about sitting with Naomi and Amos. They were weyrmates, after all, as Keth and Basuth had mated during her last flight, just as they always had. That made them the heads of Tycho Weyr’s rider council and Holden’s superiors. He also knew that their relationship was not just political, as some relationships between the riders of mated gold and bronze dragons were, and that they were lovers. He wondered if this was intended to be some sort of romantic outing for them. He didn’t want to interrupt if so.</p><p>He had to admit, though, that he was a little curious about their odd relationship. They seemed like very different people, but their devotion for each other ran deep. Finlith, sensing his thought, added, &lt;They are not very affectionate for humans. I have never seen them do the thing with their mouths that you sometimes do with other humans.&gt;</p><p>Holden hoped that he didn’t turn crimson. &lt;It’s called kissing. You don’t usually do it in public. Much.&gt;</p><p>&lt;It seems quite unpleasant.&gt;</p><p>&lt;Later, Finlith.&gt;</p><p>“Join us for a bit,” Naomi said, breaking through his thoughts. “It’s no good to fly while Finlith is still damp.”</p><p>“Sure,” Holden stammered. Finlith projected a dubious feeling into his mind but settled his head on his forehands for a nap, telling Holden to wake him if there was to be kissing. A little way away, bronze Keth was already basking in the sun, his large frame stretched as best as he could manage along the stones that bordered the bank. He was rather mellow in disposition despite his place of great importance within the weyr. He and Finlith were technically brothers, having been hatched from the same clutch of eggs. Holden and Naomi had stood together on the hot sands, watching as the colossal eggs rocked and cracked, though they hadn’t been any closer than they were now.</p><p>Holden could still remember the day that he had Impressed Finlith. By now, it was difficult to imagine life without the dragon. Like every young child, he had been hoping to Impress one of the large bronzes. After all, they were generally the only ones large enough to chase after the gold queens when they rose to mate, and being a bronze rider was a terribly important job in his young eyes. But, Finlith’s great egg cracked and split, and the tiny brown dragonet, still dripping with amniotic fluid, had beelined for Holden. &lt;Hello!&gt; the baby dragon had said in his bright voice, sitting down on his haunches like a dog. &lt;I am Finlith. And you are Jim.&gt; A great love had bloomed within Holden then, something indescribable, unconquerable. He reached out, instinctively knowing just where to scratch the little dragon on its neck. Finlith had crooned, his faceted eyes turning a brilliant indigo, and that was the moment they became Finlith and Jim, Jim and Finlith, inseparable, always.</p><p>“So, how did you find this spot?” Naomi asked. She was peeling off the heavy layers of her leather riding clothes. Holden tried to recall if he had ever seen her outside of her working attire or her stiff formal clothes, deciding that he certainly would have remembered if he had. Her body was long and slender, angular and beautiful. Holden looked away as she began to roll up the legs of the soft linen pants that she wore beneath the riding britches.</p><p>“Oh, I think we were skipping one of Alex’s lessons back when we were weyrlings,” Holden replied. Alex was one of the more senior members of the weyr. He was blue Shivalth’s rider, and together they helped train the new riders and their dragons. He had an amiable personality, a story for every occasion, and an unsullied record at the annual All-Weyr Races. Shivalth, like all of the small blue dragons, was quick, agile, and energetic. She had a cheerful energy about her that mirrored that of her rider and, apparently, a love of beer.</p><p>“That’s how we found it!” Naomi replied with a laugh. “I think we were skipping a history lesson. Keth wanted to practice going <em>between</em>.”</p><p><em>Between</em> was the cold, empty space between places. Dragons could access the <em>between</em> so long as they had clear visual aids in their mind. Some could also go <em>between</em> times by using the stars as guide, though it was discouraged in the weyrs. Going <em>between</em> places could be risky in itself; inevitably, inexperienced dragons and their riders were lost to the cold empty when they failed to visualize their destination. Going <em>between</em> times was riskier still.</p><p>Naomi was shaking her head and unscrewing a metal canteen that she had materialized. “I tried to tell him that we shouldn’t, but you know how it goes.” She took a swig from the canteen and handed it to Holden. “Wine?”</p><p>“Uh—”</p><p>“It’s not a test,” she said with another laugh. Holden didn’t often hear her laugh, but it was a pleasant sound, genuine. Flushing, he took the canteen from her and took a tiny sip. “It’s such a nice day. The perfect day to relax. Come on, Amos. Sit down with us.”</p><p>The other man was still watching his gold dragon as she lay in the water; the two seemed to have be having some conversation that the others weren’t privy to. Holden noted that the queen’s eyes had turned from angry red to a bright blue. Amos turned to look at them and shrugged. “Sure, boss.” First, though, he too stripped of the heavy riding clothing. Even his shirt was tossed aside, revealing a muscular chest. Once again, Holden found himself diverting his gaze with a blush.</p><p>&lt;Are they both handsome?&gt; Finlith asked.</p><p>&lt;They’re our leaders. Be respectful.&gt;</p><p>&lt;That does not mean they cannot be handsome, Jim.&gt;</p><p>&lt;<em>Finlith</em>.&gt;</p><p>Amos sat down beside Naomi. Holden proffered him the canteen, which he gladly accepted and took a generous swig from. “Is this my wine?” he asked, sniffing the contents.</p><p>“It’s our wine,” Naomi said. She snatched the canteen back from him with a flourish. “Holden and I were just talking about skipping Alex’s lessons. We were in the same training group, did you know that?”</p><p>“Nope,” Amos said. He had come to the weyr slightly later, though Holden was fairly certain he was older than both he and Naomi. Amos hadn’t even been a candidate for Impression; he had just been a server working in the weyr’s kitchen and helping with other odd jobs. Holden remembered Basuth’s hatching quite clearly, as it had been quite a controversy back in the day. Amos had been serving wine and cheese for the lords, ladies, and high-ranking riders while the hatching ceremony took place. When the great gold egg on the sand split open, the tiny queen had clambered out, ignored the small huddle of young men and women that had been selected for her to choose from, and had cried piteously up at Amos until someone had finally helped him down onto the hatching grounds. There was a common saying in the weyrs—the dragon chooses the rider. Few had been happy with the arrangement, but Basuth’s choice was her own, and the bonds made at Impression could never be severed.</p><p>“You and Basuth didn’t have to take lessons with Alex,” Naomi teased. “You don’t know how lucky you are.”</p><p>Amos grinned. “Yeah, but I had to take those special one-on-one lessons. Bein’ so important and all, you know?” Naomi rolled her eyes at him. “I’m just saying, I have gotten the dragon sex talk more times than the one for humans. And I had to learn to be <em>poised</em> and shit.”</p><p>Naomi said aloud what Holden was thinking. “You are not poised. Those lessons must not have stuck.”</p><p>Amos took the wine back. “That’s why I leave the schmoozing to you, boss.” From the water, Basuth rumbled in agreement.</p><p>Holden smiled as he watched the pair. He couldn’t believe that he was sitting here drinking wine with the two most powerful people at Tycho, and they were just chatting with him like they were old friends. He and Naomi had always had a professional relationship; his interactions with Amos had been few. He wondered if something had spurred this change or if the pleasant weather had just put everyone in a good mood. The queen rider handed him the wine again, and Holden didn’t think he was imagining the way Amos’ eyes roved up and down his body. Their fingers brushed as Holden took the canteen.</p><p>“Speaking of,” Naomi said, “We have that meeting over at Terra Hold in a few days.”</p><p>Amos sighed and leaned back against the tree he was sitting beneath. “What’s the point of this one, again?”</p><p>“Gently encouraging them to order a few more flamethrowers for the next Threadfall. I know they have been having some financial issues, but they’re going to lose a crop field one day if they keep relying on us to deal with any rogue spores, and that’ll only make things worse.”</p><p>Amos grunted in agreement.</p><p>“Finlith and I were ordered there last Threadfall,” Holden ventured cautiously. He remembered Finlith sniffing along the ground, trying to root out the few spores that had slipped past the formations of dragonriders. Thread fell in predictable patterns, waxing and waning periodically. From Holden’s understanding, it was some sort of fungal spore that lived in the asteroid clouds far, far away. It fell like rain, but it devoured organic life instead of nurturing it. That was why the dragons had been created by the very first human settlers on Pern, genetically engineered from the native fire-lizards so that they were larger, more intelligent, and reliant on humans. Together, humans and dragons worked together to set the falling Thread ablaze before it could take root in the ground. <em>A dragon must fly when there are Threads in the sky</em>, Holden recited from his lessons.</p><p>Naomi cocked her head at him. “I remember that, yeah. What were your impressions?”</p><p>He paused, trying to choose his words carefully. “They were…unprepared.”</p><p>Amos snorted. “That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.”</p><p>Naomi cast her partner a wry look and then turned her gaze back to Holden. “Why don’t you come with us, then? If we’re having a hard time convincing them, maybe you can talk about what you and Finlith saw. Besides, Basuth is due to mate again soon, and it’s never too early to start scouting out new riders from the holds. I’m told Finlith is quite adept at sensing people who might be good riders.”</p><p>A surge of pride filled Holden’s chest at the praise. “He is,” he assured his leader. “He likes children.” The brown dragon opened one sleepy eye and made a soft purring noise. Holden scratched him gently beneath one of his fleshy, giraffe-like horns. From the corner of his eye, he saw a soft, fond expression cross Naomi’s face.</p><p>Amos, his eyes shut against the afternoon sun, made a noise in the back of his throat. “We should fix up some of the old flamethrowers that we don’t use anymore. They don’t work great, but something is better than nothing. I would just scrap them for parts anyways.”</p><p>Naomi nodded. “Good idea.”</p><p>Basuth crawled out from the stream with a heavy draconic sigh, sitting on her haunches and spreading her wings wide to catch the sun. The light set her scales ablaze with a molten light. Amos opened his eyes so that he could regard her. His gaze was critical and assessing, as if he was searching his beast for imperfections. Seemingly content with his survey, he let his eyelids close again.</p><p>“It’s settled, then. Holden, the meeting is in two days. If you and Finlith have any riding gear or tack you bring out for special occasions, it wouldn’t hurt to put it on. Avasarala is…” Naomi’s eyes roved over to glance at Amos, who was grinning. “Flashy,” she concluded at the same time Amos said, “Sexy.”</p><p>“Uh—yeah, I was actually just having something made for Finlith. I think it should be done tomorrow.”</p><p>Finlith perked up at that.</p><p>“Saddle?” Naomi asked.</p><p>“No, a breast collar, actually.” He scratched his head a little sheepishly. “Finlith likes to collect rocks. So, I got some of the bigger ones polished and inlaid in some leather.”</p><p>&lt;I picked out the rocks,&gt; Finlith said proudly to the group.</p><p>Basuth made a rumbling noise from where she was sunning herself. &lt;I would like something like that, Amos.&gt;</p><p>The man just laughed. “You have more than enough already, Basuth.”</p><p>The queen grumbled, and then informed them all that she was hungry. “Guess that’s our cue,” Naomi said, screwing the canteen shut. Keth roused as his rider stood and dressed, yawning mightily and then offering his leg for her to climb up. Finlith followed suit and Jim pulled himself up on his back.</p><p>“Two days,” Naomi said. “I’ll send someone over the morning of, Holden. Who knows, maybe if it goes well enough they’ll let us stay for dinner.” She laughed, and then Keth launched himself skyward with a mighty leap. Holden urged Finlith to do the same, breathing in deep as the brown dragon’s muscle bunched beneath him. The air rushed past him as Finlith brought them higher and higher with large sweeps of his wings. Looking down, he saw Basuth leap aloft as well. She flew up beside Keth. The pair flew lazy circles around each other, and then they and their riders were gone, blinking <em>between</em>.</p><p>&lt;How exciting,&gt; Finlith said. &lt;You must be happy, Jim.&gt;</p><p>&lt;Yeah, I think so,&gt; Holden agreed as Finlith evened out in the air.</p><p>&lt;May we fly a little bit longer?&gt; the dragon asked hopefully.</p><p>Holden reached down to stroke his neck, signaling his approval. Finlith chittered and brought them higher, and Holden watched the world grow small beneath them until it disappeared.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! Isn't everything just a little better with dragons?! Come find me on tumblr at pig-wings.tumblr.com for all of your Expanse and dragon related needs.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Amos shrugged and gave her a tight-lipped, smug smile. “Could’ve been checking out both of us.” He sat and cut himself a slice of bread, ripping a chunk off and tossing it into his mouth. “He was pretty cute. Nice ass.”</p>
<p>“Amos.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bed was empty when Naomi rose. The spot where Amos normally lay was cold, long vacated.  &lt;With Basuth,&gt; Keth offered, anticipating her question. She thanked him and sat up with a stretch, reluctantly leaving the pile of warm furs behind. After dressing, she descended the short ramp that led down to where the dragons slept. The large, heavy drapery was still pulled shut across the mouth of their cave, keeping out the worst of the heavy chill. She felt her connection with Keth fade a little as the dragon slipped back into sleep. Lazy lump, she thought with a smile—he hated the cold mornings.</p>
<p>Unsurprisingly, Amos was sitting next to his own dragon, dozing as she cleaned her claws with her long forked tongue. Basuth regarded her with a blue-tinged eye, and she bid the gold queen good morning before squatting down in front of her rider. His long eyelashes fluttered as he registered her presence.</p>
<p>“Morning, boss,” he said, rolling his shoulders in a stretch.</p>
<p>“Bad dreams?” she asked.</p>
<p>Amos was prone to nightmares that seemed to come and go in cycles, and he often slept in the crook of Basuth’s arm when he had them. She had never asked what they were about, and he had never offered. All she knew about the man’s past was that he had arrived at Tycho Weyr one day covered in blood and dirt, his shoulder badly dislocated. He had asked for work, and so they had employed him in the kitchens. Naomi didn’t get to know him until he had Impressed Basuth.</p>
<p>“Nah,” Amos offered. “Nothing too bad.”</p>
<p>Naomi shook her head but didn’t pry further. Maybe her lover would tell her someday, or maybe he would keep them a secret forever. She’d never know, and Basuth would never betray his confidence. Offering a hand, she helped Amos stand before wrapping her arms around his warm body. The man was like a furnace, and the mornings were getting so cold. He chuckled and pulled her tight against his chest so that she could savor his body heat.</p>
<p>“I got those flamethrowers put together for today,” Amos said as he rubbed warmth into her arms.</p>
<p>She groaned into his chest. “Don’t remind me. I’m really not looking forward to this meeting.”</p>
<p>“It won’t be bad, not with me and Basuth are there. They’re scared shitless of us.” The gold dragon paused in her grooming to cast one eye on the pair. Naomi ignored the way her faceted gaze seemed to bore into her back. She was used to the queen’s peculiar mannerisms by now, even if the other riders found them unsettling.</p>
<p>“Besides,” Amos continued, moving his hands so that he could warm her back. “That brown rider is coming with us.”</p>
<p>“Holden.”</p>
<p>“Yeah. Holden. He was checking you out the other day.”</p>
<p>Naomi laughed, pulling herself out of his grip and walking over to their small living area. Someone from the kitchen had already been in and had left them coffee and a breakfast of thick, seedy bread and jam from that summer’s berries. She sat down and poured them each a steaming mug. “Yeah, I don’t think so. Maybe he was checking <em>you </em>out.”</p>
<p>Amos shrugged and gave her a tight-lipped, smug smile. “Could’ve been checking out both of us.” He sat and cut himself a slice of bread, ripping a chunk off and tossing it into his mouth. “He was pretty cute. Nice ass.”</p>
<p>“<em>Amos</em>.”</p>
<p>“Just saying, I get so lonely when you go and visit Camina over at Medina. The bed gets so cold,” Amos said in an almost sing-song tone. Naomi rolled her eyes at him.</p>
<p>“Don’t torture him. He and Finlith fly in my formation.”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t fly in <em>mine</em>,” Amos replied smugly. Naomi shook her head incredulously.</p>
<p>“Can we at least get through the visit to Terra Hold <em>before</em> you try and string poor Holden along?”</p>
<p>“Ain’t stringing him along if he knows the game from the get-go,” Amos said, but he didn’t argue against her request. They sat in companionable silence as they finished their breakfast.</p>
<p>Naomi thought about what Amos had said about Holden. <em>Had</em> he been checking her—them—out? She hadn’t noticed that, but Amos was right—he certainly was handsome. Naomi had heard rumors that he was a bit of a playboy, fond of short flings. That wasn’t uncommon in the weyr; relationships between riders were fluid, and riders weren’t allowed to marry. Some, like she and Amos, formed more permanent bonds, sometimes monogamous, sometimes not. Sometimes riders raised children together but, in reality, children born in the weyr were raised by many parents, both human and dragon. The concept of family and relationship had no set definitions, no social norms. Besides, the whims of their dragons could often sway their own desires, especially when a queen rose to mate and the mood at the weyr became rather…well, amorous. She glanced over at Amos, who was slurping his second cup of coffee. Basuth was due to rise for a mating flight in a few weeks, she recalled with a blush. Keth made his approval known in her mind, and Naomi waved her randy companion’s thoughts away.</p>
<p>“So,” Amos broke through her reverie, drawing out the word. “Let’s talk about this meeting at Terra.”</p>
<p>Naomi sighed and ran a hand through her curls. She wasn’t looking forward to meeting with old, stubborn Avasarala.</p>
<p>&lt;She would have made a good rider,&gt; Keth mused.</p>
<p>&lt;Maybe if she didn’t hate dragons,&gt; Naomi thought back to him. She heard Keth huff from his nest.</p>
<p>“I think it’ll go easier if we can give them a few old flamethrowers. But, they’re still going to have to buy their own, and I don’t think they’re going to want to.” She paused, biting her lower lip. She knew that what she was about to say next would piss Amos off, but she felt bad keeping secrets from him, especially when they’re pertained to the wellbeing of the dragon weyr. “They didn’t pay their full tithe to the weyr this month.”</p>
<p>Amos raised an eyebrow at her. “Real shit?”</p>
<p>“Yeah. They paid about half of it.”</p>
<p>Amos set his coffee down and frowned. “That’s a problem. They give us most of our produce.”</p>
<p>“Yep. I’ve been trying to keep that quiet. It’s not good if the other Holds find out one isn’t paying their full tribute. Then they all try cutting corners, and then the weyr goes hungry.”</p>
<p>“We need to say something”</p>
<p>“Not now, Amos.”</p>
<p>“No,” the man asserted, “Now. At the meeting today. If we don’t say something now, it’s just going to get worse. We don’t make anything that we can trade. We don’t grow most of our own food. But we do protect all of their food and people and livestock, and they need to compensate us for that.” </p>
<p>“I just think that we should wait.”</p>
<p>“Bullshit, Naomi. Waiting never gets us anything. They don’t respect you. They don’t respect you because they don’t respect me. So, you have to hold their asses over the fire and let them know you mean business.” His voice was rising. From their perches, the dragons began to growl. The emotion seemed to fill the air, sticky and oppressive. Naomi placed a hand on his arm to calm him. She felt him stiffen, inhale sharply, and then slump into his chair. He sighed heavily and dropped his gaze down to his coffee.</p>
<p>“I don’t give a shit if they don’t respect me,” Amos mumbled, scratching at his beard. “But I fucking hate that they don’t respect you.”</p>
<p>“I know,” she soothed. “Let me take point today, big guy.”</p>
<p>“I always do, boss.” He glanced up at her. His expression was so earnest, it made her heart ache.</p>
<p>“Let’s get ready. Holden’s meeting us in an hour.”</p>

<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p>Finlith couldn’t stay still. The dragon kept rocking back onto his hind legs so that he could admire his new breast plate, gently touching the polished stones with one claw as if to check that they were still there. Now and then, he twisted his neck so that the rocks would catch the sun, and his faceted eyes would whirl and dance as he studied the reflections.</p>
<p>&lt;You’re going to scratch the leather,&gt; Holden chided as the brown dragon fussed with the tack again.</p>
<p>&lt;I am being very careful, Jim.&gt;</p>
<p>Holden shook his head and patted his companion’s side. Finlith tilted his head down so that he could gaze at his rider.</p>
<p>&lt;You look so handsome, Jim,&gt; he said approvingly, &lt;So very handsome! When Amos of Basuth and Naomi of Keth see you, they will surely want to make many eggs with you.&gt;</p>
<p>Holden groaned internally. Finlith chattered away as his rider fussed at his stiff formalwear. It was made of a darker leather than his usual riding gear and trimmed with bright blue thread. A swirling botanical pattern was stamped into the breast. It was the sort of thing he wore once or twice a year, and each time he pulled it out of storage he forgot how it pinched his armpits and made riding horribly unpleasant. He tried tugging down the shirt to no avail. He was about to unbutton his vest for a few moments’ relief when a great rush of wings came from above, and Keth and Basuth landed a little way away.</p>
<p>Holden smiled as Naomi waved at him. She and Keth wore matching shades of leather clothing and tack, simple and utilitarian in their design. The three colored armbands that signified her rank stood out in stark contrast to the rest of her clothing. Surely intentional, Holden thought. Apparently Naomi wanted them to know that she meant business.</p>
<p>Basuth, on the other hand, was lavishly decorated. Her tack was lined with bright red tassels, and Holden thought he could hear the jingle of bells as she shifted uneasily. Around her neck were three beaded collars; Holden could only imagine how long it must have taken to weave something large enough to fit around a queen’s neck. Up on her back, Amos looked miserable. He was dressed in the traditional white clothing of queen riders, trimmed with golden thread. The clothes were loose and flowing, hanging from his arms and legs and fluttering in the breeze. The delicate clothing was in stark contrast to the ropey muscle Holden knew was hidden underneath. He was admittedly surprised that Amos had agreed to at least dress of the part of a traditional queen rider for this meeting, though the look on the man’s face indicated that he wasn’t too pleased about it.</p>
<p>&lt;Keth says to follow him,&gt; Finlith said. He offered his leg for Holden to climb up and, once his rider was settled, sprang into the air after Keth and Basuth. The air was bitingly cold, and Holden once again found himself wishing for his more practical riding gear.</p>
<p>Keth’s deep timbre rang in his head. &lt;Naomi would like you to join us at the meeting, Holden of Finlith. Finlith will search for Impression candidates. Are you ready to go <em>between</em>?&gt; The pair signaled their affirmation. Keth flashed them an image of Terra Hold. Together, Holden and Finlith visualized the stone walls of the hold, the acres of cropfields that patterned and land, and then they went <em>between</em>.</p>
<p>The cold of <em>between</em> was indescribable. The space was black as coal, an endless expanse of darkness, empty. Holden felt like he had been plucked from reality by an invisible hand. He focused on the feeling of Finlith beneath him, the gentle thumping of the dragon’s strong heart. He counted to one, two, three, four, and just as he felt like the cold would consume him, they blinked into the sunny skies of Terra Hold. Though the sun was weak, it felt like heaven on Holden’s face. He released the breath he didn’t know he had been holding.</p>
<p>Keth and Basuth circled once and fanned their wings out to land on a large stone patio outside of the hold. Finlith followed suit, and Holden clambered down from his back.</p>
<p>&lt;I will stay here, Jim,&gt; Finlith said, pointing a wingtip up toward the hold’s walls. From the ramparts, a dozen small faces peered down at them, pointing excitedly at the dragons. Finlith chirruped happily at them, the tip of his tail flicking in excitement.</p>
<p>Holden pat his shoulder. &lt;Have fun, big guy.&gt; The dragon blinked a brilliant blue eye at him, and gently flicked his tongue out to touch Holden’s shoulder.</p>
<p>He walked over to Naomi and Amos; the man was fussing with the elaborate clothing he had worn, swearing under his breath as he untangled one of the silks. “They’d better fucking appreciate this,” he groused at Naomi. “I hate wearing these fucking clothes.”</p>
<p>Naomi helped him sort out his ridiculous clothing. “Avasarala’s traditional. She’ll appreciate the effort.”</p>
<p>Amos made a noise of decided disagreement. Naomi turned to face Jim; her face was tight with worry, but she managed a smile for him. “I’m glad you’re here. I hope Finlith finds some good candidates—I think it would really help our case if we could get some more recruits from Terra for the weyrs.” Her eyes trailed back to the brown drake. A few of the bravest children had already emerged from the hold to stroke his neck.</p>
<p>“So,” Naomi continued. “You and Amos are going to let me do the talking today, unless someone addresses you directly.” She cast her weyrmate a pointed look; Amos’ eyes clicked down to stare at the ground. “Our relationship with Terra Hold has…<em>soured</em> as of late.”</p>
<p>Holden wondered what <em>that</em> could possibly mean. That and the lines of worry on Naomi’s face didn’t bode well for this meeting. Finlith reached out gently with his mind, sensing his rider’s apprehension. He inhaled, then nodded. “Of course. I can sit with Finlith if you’d prefer…”</p>
<p>“No, I’d like you there,” said Naomi. A small group had emerged from the hold, led by a stern-looking woman who was dressed in the stiff outfit of the hold’s guard. “Here we go,” Naomi said under her breath.</p>
<p>“Weyrleaders,” the stern woman said to Naomi and Amos. She nodded curtly at Holden. “Rider.”</p>
<p>“Pleasant morning,” Naomi said. “We’re here for our meeting with Lady Avasarala.”</p>
<p>The woman nodded, then gestured for them to follow her. Not a terribly warm reception, thought Holden. They were led to the large council room at the center of the hold. It was draped with the blue, white, and green flags of Terra Hold, and portraits of esteemed, long-dead leaders hung from the walls. Not a single tapestry of dragons, Holden noted. Most holds at least paid some sort of tribute to the fire-breathing beasts. At the apparent head of the round table, surrounded by her closest advisors, Lady Avasarala was pouring herself a cup of tea. She was dressed even more elaborately than Amos, draped in thick, shimmering orange fabric. Precious stones hung from her neck and ears, and her dark hair was coiled in a tight braid. The woman oozed power. Holden could see why Naomi was making such a big deal about this meeting now.</p>
<p>Avasarala looked up as they entered the room. “Nagata,” she said curtly. Then, even more curtly, “Burton.” Amos flashed her a cocky smile. Naomi bowed to the leader of the hold.</p>
<p>“Thank you for having us today,” said Naomi. “This is Holden, rider of Finlith.”</p>
<p>Avasarala cast her withering stare on him and then gestured for them all to sit. The eyes that watched them were not friendly. Her advisors were watching the riders with suspicion, and Avasarala looked like she had bitten into something sour. She gestured for servants to pour them coffee, and then spread her hands.</p>
<p>“So,” she began. “Let’s just get to the damn point. This is about the upcoming Threadfall, and why we need to do better.”</p>
<p>That seemed to catch Naomi off guard. She paused for a long moment, and Holden could clearly see the wheels turning in her head. “It’s about how we can help each other,” Naomi said tensely. “To help keep your crops and citizens safe.”</p>
<p>Avasarala brushed her off. “Blah, blah, blah. Save me the bullshit. The way I see things,” she paused to take a pointed sip of tea. “You riders have a job to do. You exist to destroy Thread so that it cannot damage our crops. We, the holds, pay you monthly tithes of food and goods and booze. We pay you for a service.” Naomi opened her mouth to speak, but Avasarala wasn’t finished. “You’re coming here to ask if we can do the service that we <em>pay</em> you for. You want us to buy more flamethrowers. You want us to assemble foot regiments to fight Thread.”</p>
<p>Naomi interrupted. “It’s not about asking you to do our job. We riders will do what we always have, what the dragons were bred to do. But we can’t burn every piece of Thread that falls from the sky. You need to be prepared for the ones that we miss. We’ve always relied on the holds to help us on the ground.”</p>
<p>Holden glanced over to Amos. The man was watching this with that same lazy smile he always wore. A flash of anger rose in Holden at that. Did he <em>like</em> seeing his partner get harangued? Naomi had told them to let her talk, but Amos could at least look offended on her behalf.</p>
<p>One of the advisors spoke up now. “We had Thread in our wheat fields last Threadfall. It could’ve wiped out the whole crop.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Naomi bit out. “Holden here was the rider who responded to that. And I concluded based on his report that you, as a hold, were not prepared for the possibility of rogue Thread.”</p>
<p>Shards of the egg, Holden could never do her job. He appreciated the way that she placed the blame on her own shoulders, rather than telling the truth and saying that Holden had noted their lack of preparation. Naomi was a brilliant leader, clever and fair, but he was starting to sense that she was fighting a losing battle here.</p>
<p>There was a pause, a few heavy beats of quiet. Holden sipped at his coffee. “Tell me, Weyrleader,” Avasarala said. “If you expect us to do more and more of <em>your</em> job, do you think we should still pay you the full tithe?”</p>
<p>“I think you’ve already made that decision, Chrissie.” Amos quipped before Naomi could even begin to speak. The room went silent. Holden watched Naomi breathe in deeply, then exhale. Some of the advisors were gawking at Amos. Avasarala just regarded him coolly. He could’ve been asking her about the weather, or any other mundane phenomena.</p>
<p>“I apologize for my companion’s remarks,” Naomi said. She wouldn’t meet Amos’ eyes. “We—”</p>
<p>“No,” said Avasarala. “I want to know what he means. He is your equal in leadership, isn’t he? Let him speak.”</p>
<p>Holden stared resolutely at his coffee. Naomi was glaring daggers at the old woman. Amos leaned back in his chair and swirled his own mug. “I’m just saying,” the queen rider drawled, “Did you think we wouldn’t notice that half of our tithe is missing? Seems like you’ve already made up your mind about paying us.” He licked his lips, then grinned. “If you don’t want to pay us, we don’t have to send our formations to Terra Hold during Threadfall. Y’all can take your chances.”</p>
<p>That was a serious threat. Even one strand of Thread could burrow and spread, chewing away at organic life. Holden saw Naomi reach over to pinch Amos hard on the thigh. The big man didn’t react.</p>
<p>“You insult us,” the advisor who had spoken up earlier said. Avasarala silenced him with a flick of her hand.</p>
<p>“The harvest was bad last season,” she said casually. “The summer was rainy.”</p>
<p>“Gonna be worse if you don’t have any dragons or flamethrowers to help fight Thread,” Amos replied.</p>
<p>The room was silent for a few beats. Naomi was sitting very stiffly in her chair, her hands folded neatly on the table. This was not good. Amos was trying to strongarm them, and Holden was getting the distinct impression that Avasarala knew just how to play that sort of game. He couldn’t help but respect the woman. She had nerves of steel to go toe-to-toe with the rider of such a capricious queen.  </p>
<p>“Holden,” Naomi said abruptly. “Will you go out and check on the dragons?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” he said, all too happy for an excuse to leave the doomed meeting. Avasarala shooed away some of her lower-ranking advisors as well. The man who had spoken up earlier remained, and his unsettling gaze was fixed on Amos.</p>
<p>He bowed awkwardly to the table before leaving. Naomi caught his eye as he left. She looked very tired, and seeing her so downtrodden both made his chest tight with sorrow and filled him with a fierce protectiveness. He tried to offer her a reassuring smile as he left, but her attention was already back on the meeting. The door shut behind him with a soft <em>click</em>.</p>

<p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p>Finlith had acquired an entourage by now. Some of the children were using his body as a jungle gym, climbing along his back and neck, using the ridges that protruded from his spine as hand and footholds. Another group had presented him with a pile of stones. The rocks were tiny compared to Finlith, but the dragon was carefully inspecting each one and lauding its various attributes while the kids argued about who had found each rock. Occasionally, a child would scurry back from the orchards and hold out a piece of fruit or some treat that had been stolen from the kitchen for Finlith to eat. The dragon accepted all these gifts eagerly. Holden smiled and shook his head. He felt the tension in his shoulder’s melt away.  </p>
<p>“You better not be too full of food to fly after this,” Holden teased. The children’s eyes went wide as they saw Finlith’s rider approach, but Holden just laughed and patted Finlith’s flank, assuring the motley crew that they were doing nothing wrong.</p>
<p>&lt;Oh,&gt; Finlith exclaimed as he swallowed another pastry. &lt;Everyone, this is Jim. He is my best friend and my rider, and he just came back from a very important meeting, and he is the best and bravest rider in all the weyrs.&gt;</p>
<p>The children nodded sagely, assuming that whatever the dragon said was true. Holden just laughed again. “Finlith exaggerates,” he said. The dragon huffed. “I was just coming to see how everything was going.”</p>
<p>&lt;It is going well, Jim, very well! I have had forty-three bread rolls and five different types of fruit.&gt;</p>
<p>Holden cast the children a wry look. “Might be best to stop raiding the kitchens for a bit.”</p>
<p>He had been about to sit down and talk with the group, maybe tell them stories from the weyr, but an ear-splitting shriek suddenly filled the air. Holden looked up to the ramparts where Basuth and Keth were perched. The gold queen’s tail was lashing, her mouth split in a horrifying snarl. She launched herself suddenly, her wings clapping like thunder, and then landed hard enough to shake the ground. The children all ran back inside, their games with Finlith forgotten. A small kernel of dread settled deep in Holden’s gut.</p>
<p>The gold queen paced and undulated her neck back and forth like a snake about to strike, hissing all the while. Keth had roused himself and was watching her carefully, head cocked like a dog. Basuth screamed again, and the sound cut deep into Holden, seemed to rattle his bones with its grating resonance. Amos and Naomi emerged from the hold then, walking quickly. Holden saw that Amos pristine white clothing was now covered in blood.</p>
<p>“What—” Holden began, but Basuth’s howl filled the air, drowning out what he had been about to say. She snatched Amos from Naomi’s side with one claw and drew him close to her body. With a seething red eye, she inspected her rider, hissing and spitting all the while. The rage emanating from her body was oppressive.</p>
<p>Another group bustled from the hold, led by Avasarala. Two of the guards that had escorted them in were behind her, a struggling man restrained between them. Holden recognized him from the meeting as the advisor who had been glaring at Amos, the one who had claimed the rider insulted them. He saw Naomi’s eyes go wide as she saw the captive, saw her run toward the group, shouting something, maybe a desperate “no!”—</p>
<p>—but Basuth was faster, much faster. The queen leapt on the man, not caring that the guards were tangled in her long talons as well. Just one of her forepaws would have crushed all three of them, but she lowered her great head, shaking the broken bodies of the dying guards away before ripping the man apart. He barely had time to scream before she crushed his body in her jaws with a sickening crack. Holden winced, and Keth and Finlith uttered an odd moaning keen. Naomi’s eyes were screwed shut, and Avasarala was regarding the bloody scene with shock written plain across her face.</p>
<p>Holden looked to Amos. He expected the man to be horrified, but instead he was watching the massacre with a cool disinterest. Blood ran freely down his own side, his injury apparently forgotten. It couldn’t have been bad, then, certainly not bad enough for this sort of reaction. Holden didn’t know what to say. Why hadn’t Amos done something? Why hadn’t he restrained Basuth? Had it all really happened that fast? Finlith’s fear coiled tight around his own mind and he found that he couldn’t think clearly anymore.</p>
<p>Abandoning her carnage, Basuth sidled back up to Amos’ side, twining her neck around the man protectively. She began to chirp softly, the same noises Finlith had made when he was a baby. Amos stroked her snout, and the rapid whirling of her crimson eyes began to slow somewhat. He seemed totally unaffected by the grisly scene. It was as if Basuth had simply killed an oxen to eat. The loss of life meant nothing to Amos.</p>
<p>Holden glanced back over at Naomi. His weyrleader’s mouth was set in a thin line, somewhere between anger and worry. She and Avasarala were staring at each other. The silence was crushing.</p>
<p>“Leave,” the old woman finally said, her voice barely a whisper. Holden saw Naomi’s shoulders tense and then quickly relax. Keth came down from the ramparts and quickly laid his arm out for Naomi to clamber up. The bronze dragon then surprised Holden by plucking Amos from the cobblestone and placing him, somewhat carelessly, up on Basuth’s back. The queen hissed and nipped at her mate, but Keth ignored her. Finlith whined softly. Holden placed a reassuring hand on his flank and tried desperately to project an air of calmness to his companion. He hated to see Finlith so distressed. He couldn’t deny, however, that the scene was making his own stomach turn unpleasantly.  </p>
<p>&lt;Oh, Jim,&gt; Finlith said, his voice quavering in Holden’s mind. &lt;What a terrible waste.&gt;</p>
<p>“Medina,” was all Naomi said before she and Keth took off. Basuth followed with one last scream of fury, and Holden and Finlith scrambled after the bigger dragons.</p>
<p>&lt;I wish we could go home,&gt; said Finlith.</p>
<p>&lt;I know. But we can’t go <em>between</em> if Amos is bleeding, and Medina Outpost is just an hour’s flight away.&gt;</p>
<p>Finlith made a mournful warbling noise but followed after his leaders, staying a comfortable distance from the quarreling pair of beasts. Holden tried to muster up the spirit to distract his companion, but he found that he couldn’t stop thinking about the bloody mess they had left at Terra Hold. They flew in unhappy silence, and Holden watched the sun dance on the blood that still painted Basuth’s claws.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to ask me questions about Pern canon. You can find me on tumblr at pig-wings.tumblr.com!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“He’s right, you know. Let it go too long, Terra gets greedy. They good at that.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Medina Outpost was not quite a proper weyr, though it housed two full formations of dragons. It was new, at least in respect to most of the other weyrs, holds, and crafthalls. The great stone fortress, affectionately nicknamed “the Behemoth” by those who lived there, had taken seven years to build along the coast of the Western Seas. It had high walls, three watchtowers, and an elaborate array of private weyrs for the dragons and their riders that were colloquially known as hutches due to their blocky, uniform shape. Medina’s purpose was to serve as a hub for riders, traders, and holders alike, an experimental community proposed to help improve relationships between the different groups. The riders fought Thread and helped move loads of timber and ore for the crafthalls. The traders sold their wares, and the bravest used Medina as a harbor so that they could ship their goods across the sea to the distant islands. It served as a home for many as well; there were schools for the children, public kitchens and restaurants, and a large wing of living spaces and public parks.</p><p>It was not a long flight from Terra to Medina, and normally Holden would have enjoyed it. There was no better place to be than up on dragonback, the wind whistling around him and the pastures and fields small and patchworked below. But today they flew in absolute silence, thinking about what had happened at Terra. Keth and Basuth had flown far ahead, seeming to forget their smaller companion. Holden had watched them bicker before they had flown out of sight. The bronze kept nipping at his mate’s tail, and Basuth would twist her long neck back to hiss at him in fury.</p><p>&lt;Jim?&gt; Finlith had said very tentatively as Keth’s wing tangled with Basuth’s and the pair spit and growled at each other. &lt;Sometimes I am very happy that I am not big enough to catch a queen.&gt;</p><p>Holden pat his neck in reassurance. &lt;They’re not all so…grouchy.&gt; <em>Violent</em>, he thought to himself. Finlith let his doubt be known, and then put on a burst of speed to try and catch up with the pair.</p><p>They arrived at Medina not long after their companions. Keth and Basuth had already landed; Finlith followed suit, though he kept his distance from the squabbling pair. Naomi and Amos were still mounted. The big man was picking at the blood-soaked shirt stuck to his side, wincing as he pulled the fabric from the wound. Naomi rubbed small, tight circles on Keth’s neck. Her face was stony.</p><p>A small green dragon wheeled down to join them. Her hide was the color of a ripe pear, and she was diminutive compared to Keth and Basuth’s hulking forms. Holden recognized her as Magith, and the woman perched on her back as Captain Drummer. Drummer gave them all a terse salute. “He need medic?” she said in that unplaceable accent of hers, jutting her chin at Amos.</p><p>Naomi’s tone was icy. “Just alcohol and bandages. It’s not deep.”</p><p>Drummer nodded. “Come. We put you up for the night, and then tomorrow you fly back to Tycho.” The little green sprung primly into the air, spiraling high so as to give her larger counterparts plenty of room. Basuth sprang up first, interrupting Keth’s aborted launch. Again, the pair descended into quarreling. Finlith made an unhappy noise but followed after them.</p><p>&lt;Must we stay, Jim?&gt; Finlith asked. &lt;Perhaps Keth will let us go back to Tycho.&gt;</p><p>Holden couldn’t help but smile at Finlith’s optimism. &lt;I’m sorry, big guy. We’ll go right to sleep, okay?&gt; Finlith only warbled sadly in response.  </p><p>Drummer led them to the hutches, and Magith relayed where each dragon should land. There was only one weyr large enough to hold Basuth and, much to Finlith’s disappointment, there were two empty weyrs not far from it. The queen landed on the perch and immediately began to coo up at Amos, her eyes whirling to a pale yellow with her concern. Holden was surprised to see Naomi jump over to Magith’s neck after Keth landed in his own hutch. The green flew off, leaving Amos and Holden behind in their respective weyrs.</p><p>Holden set to work taking off Finlith’s tack. &lt;Are you hungry?&gt;</p><p>&lt;No,&gt; Finlith said in a melancholy tone, &lt;My stomach hurts.&gt;</p><p>&lt;You ate too much,&gt; Holden chided. Nevertheless, he found a servant who arranged for a trough of mint tea to be made for the dragon.</p><p>He had just begun to take off his own formal clothes when Basuth’s deep voice rang in his mind.</p><p>&lt;You. Help.&gt;</p><p>It was an order, not a request. Holden sighed, running a hand through his hair, and then asked his dragon to fly him over to the queen’s weyr.</p><p>&lt;You must be very careful around her,&gt; Finlith said anxiously as he let Holden down onto the ledge of Basuth’s hutch. His eyes were moving in frenzied patterns, and facets contracting and expanding in rapid succession. &lt;I will go back to our perch, but you must tell me if she does anything, Jim. I will come and get you right away.&gt;</p><p>“It’ll be fine,” he murmured to his companion. Finlith touched him gently with his snout, chirped once, and then flew off.</p><p>Basuth was waiting for him a short way inside the weyr. She gave him a stern once-over as he approached, touching him with her forked tongue as if she were trying to taste ill intent. “Let him in,” Amos eventually called from the back of the weyr. The queen begrudgingly lifted her wing so that he could pass.</p><p>Amos sat at a table while a servant bustled around lighting the sconces on the wall. He was in the process of delicately peeling the shirt from his body. The blood had dried, and each time he pulled another piece of fabric away it would cause the wound to reopen again. The man didn’t wince or cry out; he just methodically picked the fabric out of the wound until he could pull the shirt up over his head. Again, Holden found himself flushing and looking away from the man’s broad chest. How could he still find Amos attractive after what he had just witnessed at Terra?</p><p>“You gonna help me clean this?” Amos gestured to the bottle of clear liquor that the servant had brought. Holden sighed, steeled himself, and then went to sit beside his weyrleader.</p><p>The wound looked bad up close, but Amos waved his expression of concern away. “It’s not deep. Just in a bitch of a spot and it wouldn’t scab.” He handed Holden a rag from the table. “Doesn’t help that we had to fly for an hour,” the man muttered half under his breath. Holden pretended not to hear.</p><p>Another servant came in with dinner and a bottle of wine. Amos beckoned for them to bring the wine over and uncork it as Holden poured alcohol onto the rag.</p><p>“For posterity.” Amos winked, and took a hearty slug of wine from the bottle, much to the servant’s dismay. They frowned and subtly put the three glasses on the table within Amos’ reach. “Only need two, chief,” he said, taking another swallow from the bottle. The servant sighed, placed one glass back on the tray, and then scurried away from the odd man.</p><p>“Alright,” Amos said cheerily. “Let’s get this over with.”</p><p>“Do you want to wait?” Holden asked, gesturing toward the wine.</p><p>“Just do it.”</p><p>Holden pressed the rag to the wound and began to gently rub the dried the dried blood away. Amos didn’t make a sound, but Basuth whined softly, feeling the bright sting of the alcohol through their bond. After he had cleaned most of the blood off, he saw that the cut was long, but shallow. Amos was right, though—it ran right along his obliques, and even the man’s breathing seemed to agitate it. Holden bit his lip. He couldn’t help his curiosity. “What happened in there?”</p><p>Amos shrugged. “I pissed that one guy off. He drew a knife.” He took another swig of wine. “Fucking idiot. Shoulda known what was coming for him.”</p><p>Holden winced at that. Amos wasn’t wrong, but the brusque way in which he said it…</p><p>They sat in silence as Holden finished cleaning the wound. “I didn’t know things had gotten that bad with Terra,” Holden ventured after a minute.</p><p>Amos cast him a look. “Yeah, me neither.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but quickly shut it. Instead, he handed the bandages down to Holden.</p><p>Holden didn’t pry further as he layered the thick bandages over the cut. Basuth was watching him very closely, her gaze critical and assessing. When he glanced up at Amos, his eyes had fallen shut and his face had gone slack. Holden realized that he looked very, very tired.</p><p>As if sensing Holden’s gaze, Amos’ eyes snapped open. The mask immediately slipped back on, and Amos gave him a cocky smile. “You gonna help me finish this?” He wiggled the wine bottle in his hands.</p><p>“I don’t want to drink you and Weyrleader Nagata’s—”</p><p>It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it as soon as the words left his mouth. Amos’ expression seemed to close; the smile vanished, and Holden could practically see the tension that rippled through his body. “She ain’t coming back tonight,” the man said gruffly. He impatiently shoved the bottle in Holden’s hands. “Drink.”</p><p>He swallowed his protests and took the bottle. Amos stood, tested the bandages on his side, and then walked over to Basuth’s nest. He ran a hand over her flank and picked some dried blood from her hide with a nail. Holden poured them each a glass of wine. He still felt like he was intruding, but he didn’t want to risk pissing Amos off either. Basuth watched him with one glimmering eye as he went to stand by her rider’s side. Holden noticed that the angry red was gone from her iris, replaced by a gentler purple. She reached out with her mind, touching his own as if she were curious. She didn’t impart any feelings or words, and the contact was quickly severed. Amos’ eyes clicked over to glance at him, but he dropped his gaze as soon as Holden made eye contact.</p><p>“Come on,” Amos said, gesturing to the dinner that had been brought up to them. “We should let her sleep.”</p><p>Holden saw his chance. “You need to rest, too. I should go check on Finlith…”</p><p>Suddenly Amos’ hand was on his shoulder, turning him so that they were standing face to face. He took their wine glasses and set them down on the table so that he could gently cup Holden’s chin. Holden shivered at the intimacy of the touch, at the feel of Amos’ bare chest just inches from his own. Amos’ eyes were bright with a mixture of desire and his lingering hurt at Naomi’s absence. “Don’t you want to stay?” the big man asked. He stroked at Holden’s stubble with a thumb, and the hand on his shoulder slid down to his hip. They were so close. Holden heard his own breath catch, and he saw Amos’ lips twitch with the ghost of a smirk.</p><p>Every fiber of him wanted to say yes. Amos was so warm, his grip confident and wanting. Holden imagined giving in to his own fantasies, thought briefly what it would be like to fall into bed with this handsome man. But then he thought about tomorrow. He thought about Naomi, and though he was fairly certain she and Amos weren’t monogamous, he couldn’t risk upsetting her. Then he thought about the terrible noises of Basuth slaughtering the people at Terra, the sight of all those broken bodies, Amos’ complete lack of concern or remorse. A shiver rippled through him; Amos, mistaking it for desire, pulled Holden closer to his body. Their hips were flush now, and Holden let the bloody scene play again and again in his mind to quench the flames starting to flicker in his belly. He let the coppery smell of blood fill his nose, and then, with some reluctance, he pushed away from the queen rider.</p><p>If Amos was hurt, he didn’t show it. He just stared at Holden, his gaze carefully neutral, waiting for an answer. Holden had to swallow before he whispered, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”</p><p>Amos quirked a brow, and then a chilling, empty smile spread across his face. “Of course,” he said, his voice practically a purr. “Goodnight, weyrman.”</p><p>Holden stared at him for a moment more and then quickly walked out of the weyr, past the dozing queen. She reached out once more with her mind, and he was embarrassed when he slapped the contact away like a mosquito. He stood outside on the ledge, heart hammering, and called for Finlith. The brown dragon was there within moments and gently cupped Holden in his claws for the short ride down to their own weyr. His dragon didn’t ask any questions, but he wrapped his own affection around Holden like a blanket. He sat with Finlith for a moment, trying to process his fear and arousal and the fact that a small part of him regretted not taking Amos up on the offer.</p><p>When he slid into his own bed, empty and cold, an unbidden fantasy played in his mind. He thought of Amos and Naomi, of their hands sliding along his naked body, of kissing them both in turn. He pulled the furs tightly around himself and tried to will the fantasy away.</p><p>He dreamt of them.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p>“He’s right, you know. Let it go too long, Terra gets greedy. They good at that.”</p><p>It was not what Naomi wanted to hear. Drummer, knowing this, handed Naomi an empty snifter with an apologetic shrug. “<em>Mi na</em> say he was right to provoke them like that,” she said in that peculiar dialect of hers, “just that he not wrong to say something.”</p><p>“I know,” Naomi said miserably. Drummer uncorked a bottle of brandy and poured them each a glass. She paused, about to set the liquor down, and then added another shot to Naomi’s.</p><p>Naomi sighed and let herself sink down into one of Drummer’s chairs. She hadn’t expected the meeting at Terra to go smoothly, but she certainly hadn’t expected three people to be dead at the end of it. It wouldn’t be easy to sort this out with Avasarala. The woman already had a negative opinion of the weyrs, and seeing some of her citizens slaughtered by a dragon would only add to that. They certainly wouldn’t be getting their proper tithes after all that had happened. She made a mental note to look into rationing when they got back to Tycho.</p><p>The scene played out again in her mind—Basuth screeching, Keth urgently calling for Naomi to come quickly, the quick flash of gold as the queen dragon bore down on the man who had attacked Amos. It still made her nauseous. She was used to treating grisly wounds and watching Keth and the other dragons rip apart oxen and wherries, but what had happened today…she took a sip of the brandy to calm her nerves. What had happened today had been needless destruction. It made her gut feel cold.</p><p>It wasn’t the first time she had seen Basuth act so violent, but it was still shocking. Dragons were protective of their riders, but very few would ever kill a human unless their rider was in grave danger. Queens could be violent and capricious, but most had riders who wouldn’t tolerate such behavior. Apparently it didn’t bother Amos. The scene played again. She should’ve warned Avasarala, she should have said <em>something</em>…</p><p>“Not your fault,” Drummer interjected as if she could read her thoughts. “Quit blaming yourself.”</p><p>Naomi blew out a sigh. “I’m the one they’re going to hold responsible, though.”</p><p>“Can’t deny that.” Drummer took the empty chair beside hers. Naomi kicked her feet up on her lover’s lap, and Drummer obligingly set her drink down to rub them.</p><p>She and Drummer had been close even before Naomi was made weyrleader, before she had ever met Amos. They had been childhood friends and had Impressed at the same hatching ceremony, standing side by side on the hot sands. Their relationship had evolved over the years, gradually becoming more intimate, and now they were confidants, political allies, and inseparable partners. Though they couldn’t see each other as often now that they both held their respective leadership positions at Medina and Tycho, their bond had only grown stronger as they navigated the politics of the weyrs, holds, and crafthalls. Drummer had a sharp mind and was quick on her feet. It complemented Naomi’s methodical, analytical style.</p><p>Drummer hummed thoughtfully as she massaged Naomi’s soles. “You know what they say. Temper’s always bad in a queen rider.”</p><p>“Amos doesn’t have a temper. Fuck, that feels good.”</p><p>Drummer shrugged and switched to her other foot. “Doesn’t do much to calm Basuth’s, though.”</p><p>Naomi couldn’t deny that. Amos hadn’t even reacted today. He never reacted to violence. It was one of the many things about him that she knew she would never understand. She had accepted long ago that part of loving Amos was learning to accept the fact that she would never fully understand him. In turn, Amos never judged her and usually—<em>usually</em>—backed her play. It was a bitter thought. She washed it down with the drink.</p><p>“You heading back to ‘im tonight?” Drummer’s tone was cautious. She peered up at Naomi, searching her face for an answer.</p><p>“I should.”</p><p>“Should,” Drummer agreed. There was a long pause. Drummer paused her ministrations to sip at her brandy.</p><p>Naomi thought about going back and sharing a weyr with Amos. The thought filled her with dread. She knew she couldn’t say anything to him now, and she also knew that even if Amos wasn’t angry with her, Basuth was angry enough at Keth that they would inevitably descend into bickering. When emotions ran high among dragons, they predictably ran high among riders. Dragons, being creatures that lived in the present, were less forgiving than their human counterparts.</p><p>&lt;Basuth was being unreasonable,&gt; Keth said.</p><p>&lt;I’m not blaming you.&gt; Keth huffed, and then his presence was gone from her mind. She considered chasing after him, but Drummer broke through her thoughts.</p><p>“Finlith’s rider is with him.”</p><p>Naomi cast her a look. “How do you know that?”</p><p>Drummer grinned slyly. “Basuth likes Magith. They talk.”</p><p>Naomi sighed. Drummer’s expression grew more serious, apologetic. “Sorry. Thought that wouldn’t bother you.”</p><p>“No,” Naomi quickly said. “Well, it doesn’t bug me that he’s with someone else. Just wish he’d leave Holden alone.” She pulled her feet from Drummer’s lap. The woman raised a brow and swirled her drink in her glass. A few beats of silence passed between them.</p><p>“<em>Im</em> a lot to handle,” Drummer noted in a conversational tone. “Amos, that is.”</p><p>Naomi felt her hackles begin to rise. She didn’t want to rehash this conversation with Drummer, though part of her had known that it was inevitable. “That’s not fair to Amos.”</p><p>Drummer shrugged. “Still. Not wrong.”</p><p>“<em>Camina</em>.”</p><p>Drummer held up her hands in a placating gesture. Naomi frowned and sipped at her drink. She knew what the others said about Amos behind his backs. She knew that they belittled him and, consequently, her. She did not need to hear Camina repeat the sentiments of some of the bronze riders who would have liked to see Amos sent away to one of the outposts or the foreign weyrs across the seas.</p><p>Drummer’s expression softened. She leaned forward in her chair, reaching out to touch Naomi’s ankle. “<em>Im</em> good to you. I know that. Not good to you today, though.”</p><p>“No. I guess not.” The thought made her chest ache.</p><p>She dreaded tomorrow. She knew that Terra would inevitably send messengers and politicians who wanted apologies, payment, the weyr’s general subservience. It would be a nightmare. She still wasn’t sure how she would even begin to placate them. Though she hated the thought, she knew that she would have to keep Amos and Basuth away from it all. The holders wouldn’t want to see them, and she couldn’t trust Basuth not to hurt any of them. Maybe Holden would do her a favor and spend some time with Amos. That thought made her wince. It seemed shitty to make the poor rider distract Amos and his ornery companion, and it made her feel worse still to saddle Amos with a minder.</p><p>Although maybe Holden wouldn’t mind if he had spent the night with Amos.</p><p>&lt;He is back with Finlith,&gt; Keth supplied. She cursed her companion’s constant attention to her thoughts. She would’ve slept better thinking that Holden and Amos were together tonight. Keth, in his maddening, matter-of-fact way, politely let her know that he was just documenting the reality around him. She shooed him away.</p><p>There were no good options for dealing with Terra. Surely, though, there had to be one that was a little bit better than the rest. She wracked her brain, searching for some solution that wouldn’t lead to everyone getting pissed at her. Nothing came to mind.</p><p>“I can hear you thinking. Come to bed.” Drummer stood and offered Naomi her hand. Naomi used it to haul herself up. She kissed Drummer gently on the lips and then pulled her into a tight embrace. The woman obligingly wrapped her long arms around her companion.</p><p>“Fucking sucks,” she lamented into the curve of Drummer’s neck. Drummer chuckled knowingly and pulled her closer, rubbing her back as she did so.</p><p>“Fucking sucks,” Drummer agreed. She maneuvered Naomi toward the bed. “Sleep now. Think later. We can talk strategy tomorrow.”</p><p>When sleep finally did come, it pulled her down hard. She dreamt of Threadfall, of the acrid smell of Keth’s flaming breath. The Thread was too fast, too much. It slipped past her, down past the whirling formations blues and greens, down past Amos’ formation of golds and their spitting flamethrowers. Down it fell, and when it hit the ground it buried itself deep into the pastures and fields, eating away at the greenery with a ferocious speed. Through the smoke, the deep earthy colors of Terra’s flags whipped in the killing wind.   </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr at pig-wings.tumblr.com.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
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    <p>The light streaming through the mouth of the weyr was too bright. Amos huffed and turned in the bed, pulling the furs up and over his face to block out the morning. The sunlight was pale and sickly. It was still early, then. He tried to fall back asleep before coherent thought broke through, but Basuth’s presence loomed in his mind as if she were standing over him. He sat up in the bed to find her awake and sitting on her haunches. Her large eyes were fixed on him.</p><p>&lt;I am hungry.&gt;</p><p>“You’re always hungry,” he mumbled, falling back to the pillows. She waited a moment and poked at him again with her mind.</p><p>&lt;I am hungry.&gt;</p><p>He sighed. “All right, princess. We can go find you something to eat.”</p><p>The slash across his belly twinged with pain as he stood from the bed. Right. Amos ran a hand through his hair, shuffling over to the washbasin.</p><p>&lt;Naomi is angry with us,&gt; said Basuth. It was not quite a question, not quite a statement.</p><p>&lt;Yup.&gt;</p><p>That displeased Basuth. Her annoyance twisted itself around Amos’ mind, tinged with deep anxiety. It felt cloying and heavy and he tried his best to project an air of calm in an effort to get her to relax. Basuth asked about his wound, and he reassured her it was all right.</p><p>&lt;That human was trying to kill you,&gt; the great beast fretted. She extended her neck so that she could get closer to Amos, though she couldn’t quite fit into the weyr’s living space. The effect would have been comical if it weren’t for her eyes whirling a frantic yellow.</p><p>&lt;He wasn’t trying to kill me.&gt; Amos dried his face and walked over to Basuth’s snout. She obligingly lowered her head so that he could scratch her above her eye ridge. &lt;Sometimes people just get pissed off and they do stupid things.&gt;</p><p>&lt;They will not hurt my Amos,&gt; Basuth protested softly. Her eyes had slipped shut. Amos took in a shaky breath, rubbing the heel of his palm between the dragon’s eyes. As a hatchling, her head had been nearly as long as his torso. Odd to think that he had thought her large then, when now her head was as tall as he was when measured from the bottom of her jaw to the top of her cranium.</p><p>He still didn’t understand why the great gold beast had chosen him. Amos hadn’t even been a candidate for Impression. He had been too old, too rough, just a server boy working in the weyr’s kitchens. It had been a fine enough job—he had a bed and food and a feeling of safety that he had never had before. He had hoped to apprentice with the smiths, but jobs in their crafthall were scarce.</p><p>His memory of that day was still clear. The candidates standing on the hot sands had spent weeks with the eggs, touching the shells and talking to the hatchlings growing within under the watchful eye of their golden mother. The gold egg had sat away from the rest, jealously guarded by the queen—Jysilth, Amos recalled. It had been a few years since a queen had hatched at Tycho Weyr, but Jysilth was growing old and Salisuth, Keth’s dam, had stopped rising to mate last year. As such, the presence of a queen egg had been quite an occasion. Whoever Impressed the new hatchling would inevitably become the next weyrleader, and the queen would serve as mother to the next generation of dragons.</p><p>The group of young men and women who had stood around the gold egg had been carefully selected from the holds and crafthalls. They had all been well-bred, intelligent, and even-tempered—the sort of leaders the weyr would need. They had waited in a circle around the egg as the rest of her siblings hatched and paired off with their riders. Then, the grown dragons perched high above the sands had started to hum, and the golden egg split with a crack that echoed off the walls of the hatching ground. The baby queen lifted her head from the remains of her prison, blinked the amniotic fluid from her eyes, and had immediately begun to squall. She lurched past the circle of candidates, much to the surprise of everyone on the hatching ground. Amos had been pouring wine for some holder lord. He has aware, based on the chatter, that something unusual was happening, but he hadn’t been paying much attention to the hatching.</p><p>The terrible crying, though, had been unnerving. An unbidden wave of nausea had risen in his gut as the baby dragon screamed and wailed her way across the hot sands, ignoring the candidates that trailed after her. Then she had begun to scrabble her claws against the walls that separated the viewing area from the hatching sands. The people around him were murmuring, looking at each other with confusion. Amos had gritted his teeth and moved to the next group of holders. The sound of scrabbling followed him, and the crying grew louder, and the nausea only got worse.</p><p>He had suddenly been aware of many, many eyes looking at him. People were staring. An old harper had grabbed his elbow, nearly knocking the wineskin from his hands, and spun him around to face the little dragonet. “I think,” the old man said, his tone puzzled, “that she wants you, boy.”</p><p>Amos had just blinked at him. The harper gently pushed him toward the sands. Another man had offered him a hand so that he could lower himself down. He remembered feeling like his body had been moving of its own accord, magnetically drawn to the noisy creature. As soon as his feet touched the sand, the dragonet had scrambled over, stopping just short of Amos. The crying stopped. The humming stopped.</p><p>Suddenly, Amos had been filled with feelings that he had never experienced, never wanted to experience. Deep, nonsensical love and adoration, a fierce and rabid desire to protect and nurture this tiny creature in front of him. He grew aware of a voice in his head. &lt;Mine,&gt; the baby dragon was repeating. &lt;My Amos. Mine.&gt; He had reached out to grab her head, unsure what to do. She had just purred and blinked slowly at him.</p><p>Through forces beyond his comprehension, he had been bonded to the golden Basuth. He would never understand it. Basuth, sensing his thoughts, broke through his reverie. &lt;Because you are Amos,&gt; she said, crooning, &lt;and I am Basuth. And we go together, always.&gt;</p><p>He pressed his head against her cheekbone, and she nuzzled nearer to him.</p><p>&lt;You will eat,&gt; she said, pushing him gently away. &lt;Then I will eat.&gt;</p><p>&lt;I’m okay.&gt;</p><p>&lt;Eat.&gt; Basuth pushed him more insistently toward the dining area.</p><p>The sound of wings made them each turn their heads. Keth perched on the edge of the weyr, giving Basuth a wide berth as he let Naomi down from his back. An unnamable emotion welled up in Amos—some cocktail of grief and anger and regret that he had hurt her—when he saw his weyrmate. Naomi gave him a tentative smile as she stepped into the living space. She always gave him more kindness than he deserved. He hated it.</p><p>Amos poured her a coffee as a token of peace. He didn’t feel shame or regret for what had happened yesterday. He had said what needed to be said, what he knew Naomi wouldn’t. The stupid Holder had stabbed him and Basuth, upon seeing the blood, had reacted appropriately. She had reacted the only way that she knew how. Maybe another dragon wouldn’t have killed the man, but Amos wasn’t the sort of person to speculate or second guess. Those outside the weyrs knew well that dragons could be easily offended, despite their typically docile nature. Weren’t there teaching songs about this shit? <em>Speak softly to my lizard fair/Nor raise your hand to me/For they are quick to take offense/And quicker to champion me…</em></p><p>Naomi took the coffee, the smile slipping from her face as she did. “We don’t have time to talk about it,” she said slowly. “But Drummer and I are meeting with Bobbie today.”</p><p><em>Drummer and I</em>. Amos knew he wasn’t invited. He tamped down the way that made him feel. Something to pull apart later when Naomi was gone. Basuth reached out with her mind, making a soft crooning noise as she did. Naomi glanced at her, then back at Amos.</p><p>“I asked Holden if he could escort you today.”</p><p>A hot flame of anger licked up his throat. “Oh, come the fuck on.” That, he couldn’t ignore. Naomi wanted to saddle him with a babysitter. Maybe the rational part of his mind understood why, but it stung him. It felt like a betrayal. It felt cowardly, some way to appease the eyes that watched them carefully, waited for them to misstep. That wasn’t like Naomi. She was the bravest person he knew.</p><p>He knew that he could rant and yell and that she would have to surrender to avoid riling up Basuth again. He could rage against the disrespect, and she would be forced to acquiesce. That was the unspoken, ever-present imbalance of their relationship. Amos, through Basuth, always had the upper hand. He could do whatever he wanted, and Naomi and everyone else would have to bear it.</p><p>He respected Naomi too much for that bullshit, though. The shadows under her eyes spoke of little sleep, and she held her body with the tension of a rope pulled to its limits. Amos sighed, flexing and relaxing his grip on the coffee mug. She had taught him the value of picking his battles. Seemed fitting to apply her wisdom now.</p><p>“I’m surprised he agreed to that,” the man mumbled. Naomi’s lips twitched into the ghost of a smile.</p><p>“I’ve gathered that Holden has a strong sense of duty. He’s a good rider.”</p><p>Her attempt to lighten the mood was obvious, but it worked. Amos raised an eyebrow at her. “I wouldn’t know.”</p><p>Her own laugh seemed to catch her off guard. She hid her embarrassment with a sip of coffee, then stood up and touch her hand to Amos’ shoulder. “All right, then.” He watched her change back into her formal clothes for the day. He wondered if she was anticipating heading back to Terra to try and patch things up.</p><p>Amos normally liked watching her get ready for the day. She had a routine that she never deviated from—oil for her hair to keep it soft and smooth, a rough bar of soap for her face and body, and a line of dark charcoal for her eyes. The evident pleasure she got from this simple practice of mindfulness was contagious, and it was almost enough to make him forget his frustration with her and with the politics of the weyr in general. He wanted to scoop her up, touch her, hold her on his lap while they sipped their coffee and talked about what they had to do today and what gossip they had heard through Keth and Basuth. He liked touching Naomi. He liked being close to her. It filled some deep, animal urge in him and settled the memories that tried to bubble up in his head. She brought him a feeling of peace that he could never describe but knew that he needed like water or air.</p><p>Not today, though. Not after everything had gone all sideways yesterday. He sighed quietly and walked over to Basuth, bringing his coffee with him. She cracked one eye at him and informed him of a particularly itchy patch of skin on her flank. He set to work scratching her side. The repetition was soothing, and he forgot about his anger for a moment.</p><p>Naomi touched his shoulder again. She was ready to go, donning the heavy riding jacket. “I have to leave. But I promise, I’ll tell you everything. And then we can talk later. About everything. I—” she paused, her shoulders slumping. “I’m pissed at you. I know you’re pissed at me. But later we can talk. We can sort things out.”</p><p>“You don’t want me helping with Terra, though.”</p><p>It caught Naomi off guard. She balked, swallowed, and then shook her head. “I can’t talk about this right now.”</p><p>“Sure,” he replied, tone clipped. Naomi opened her mouth to say something and then snapped it shut. She was angry again. He didn’t care. Whatever temporary peace they had found this morning was broken.</p><p>She wordlessly climbed onto Keth’s back, and then the pair were gone. He didn’t watch them go. He focused on the same patch of dragonhide he had been scratching, and Basuth began to hum.</p><p> </p><p></p><div class="center">
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</div><p> </p><p>Finlith had fanned his wing out like a curtain so that Holden could not see his face. The dragon groused from behind his makeshift barrier, scratching his claws against the stone floor of the weyr.</p><p>&lt;I will not go,&gt; Finlith said petulantly. &lt;I will not go, and you cannot make me, for I am much bigger than you are.&gt;</p><p>Holden sighed, putting Finlith’s saddle down. He couldn’t really blame Finlith for not wanting to play escort to Basuth all day, but they also couldn’t disobey an order from their Weyrleader. “Naomi asked us to.”</p><p>&lt;Then she should go,&gt; Finlith said. &lt;If she is so worried about making sure Basuth stays out of trouble.&gt;</p><p>“She can’t go. She has to stay here today.”</p><p>Finlith snorted his frustration. Holden ducked beneath the shielding wing so that he could touch his dragon’s side.</p><p>“I know you don’t want to, big guy. I don’t want to either. But Naomi told me about something I think you might like.”</p><p>Finlith put on a stoic air, but Holden knew that he had piqued the dragon’s interest. The great head turned toward him a little bit.</p><p>“There’s a quarry nearby. Drummer said we could go there, and you could help the workers, if you’d like. Or we can just watch.”</p><p>Finlith slowly lowered his head so that his dinner-plate eye was level with Holden’s face. &lt;What sort of rocks do they have there?&gt;</p><p>“I don’t know.” Holden couldn’t help but smile. “We’ll have to find out together.” He could hear interest and frustration warring in Finlith’s mind.</p><p>&lt;Fine,&gt; the dragon finally conceded. &lt;But if Basuth does anything that I do not like, I will not hesitate to tell her at once.&gt;</p><p>Holden tried to hide his amusement. “You’re going to tell Basuth off?”</p><p>Finlith sat up straighter, arching his neck haughtily. &lt;Yes. I do not care if she is my queen. I think that she was very poorly behaved yesterday, and I do not care if she knows that.&gt;</p><p>“All right.” He patted the dragon’s side again, then went to fetch the saddle.</p><p>Holden had always found dragon politics fascinating, confusing and inconsistent though they were. Despite their great intelligence, dragons had very little capacity for long-term memory, and they rarely argued about anything besides food, mates, and their riders. According to his instructors, the founders that had genetically engineered the dragons from the tiny native fire lizards had designed it this way, foreseeing the dangers that would come of dragons fighting each other. But it still struck him as odd that a dragon like Finlith, who was really quite sharp and analytical, could find something as simple as another dragon eating the ox that he had been eyeing to be a grievous offense. And now he was claiming that he was ready to stand up to Basuth, his queen and the matriarch of the dragon weyr, because she had been “poorly behaved”. That was an amusing mental image.</p><p>Finlith chattered away as Holden tacked him up, then they flew down to Medina’s feeding pens. The cattle and wherries scattered as Finlith wheeled over them. Basuth and Amos had already arrived, and Basuth had caught two fat cows and had deposited them in a corner of the feeding grounds while she dispatched another. Amos sat up on a ledge above her, watching his dragon hunt the lowing animals.</p><p>Finlith made a displeased noise when he spotted the man. &lt;Shall I place you somewhere else?&gt;</p><p>&lt;No,&gt; Holden said. &lt;Next to Amos is fine.&gt; His dragon let his concern be known, then left his rider on Amos’ ledge so that he could feed. The brown dragon circled for a moment, selecting his prey, then killed a fat wherry bird that stood as tall as Holden. He ripped the stringy wings off of its body before feeding from its belly.</p><p>Holden glanced over at Amos. It may have been Holden’s imagination, but he didn’t look very well-rested. He was dressed in practical riding clothes that were simple and utilitarian in their design but cut in a way that seemed to emphasize his powerful arms. Holden wondered if that was intentional, and whether it was supposed to act as an invitation or a threat. “Good morning.”</p><p>“Morning,” said Amos. He was watching Finlith delicately sort out the offal from his kill. His gaze flicked over to Holden, then over to Basuth. “You’re my chaperone today, huh?”</p><p>“I—”</p><p>“Nah, it’s fine. It ain’t your fault.”</p><p>Holden didn’t know how to reply to that. It wasn’t like he could deny what Amos had said—Naomi had tried to word it delicately, but it was clear she didn’t trust Amos to be alone today. She had looked so frazzled when she had stopped by Holden’s weyr that morning. The tightness in her face indicated that she and Amos hadn’t sorted out what had happened yesterday.</p><p>He tried to make conversation about Basuth instead. “She’s well?”</p><p>“Uh-huh.” As if on cue, Basuth lifted one of the dead cows in her talons, dropped it into her upturned mouth, and swallowed it down like a snake. Queens swallowed their prey whole when they were close to rising to mate; something about the calcium from the bones helping with egg production, or that was what Holden had read in his books. Regardless, it was a little disturbing to watch the shape of the cow slide down her throat. Basuth licked her lips with satisfaction when she finally swallowed the carcass down, plucking the second one from the ground.</p><p>“She must be close, then.”</p><p>“Yeah. Couple’a weeks.” Amos cast him a look. “You don’t have to make small talk with me.”</p><p>Holden shook his head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t—”</p><p>“I mean, it’s fine, but we don’t gotta pretend this isn’t awkward.” Amos gestured vaguely with his hands. Holden thought about Amos’ arms wrapped around him last night, his hand cupping his chin. The man had been so warm, a living furnace, and Holden had been so close to melting into his heat. Part of him still wanted to.</p><p>“I ran into Drummer this morning,” Amos continued. “She mentioned something about some quarry nearby and how you wanted to check it out.” He said the woman’s name with a smidge of venom. Holden wondered if there was a story there.</p><p>“I was going to take Finlith there after…” Holden trailed off.</p><p>“Why not now? I don’t have anything better to do. She’s just gonna sleep after this much food.” Down on the feeding grounds, Basuth lifted her head to look at them.</p><p>“Sure,” Holden said awkwardly. He let the memories of last night dissolve. “If you’d like.”</p><p>Finlith fluttered up to the ledge with them. The dragon made a show of ignoring Amos, but Holden could feel his resolve swiftly crumbling as the dragon warred between his poor opinion of the man and his obligations as one of his subjects. &lt;Good morning,&gt; Finlith eventually mumbled to the weyrleader. Amos inclined his head with a knowing smile, and Holden was glad to see that the dragon’s hesitance only amused the weyrleader rather than offending him. Finlith busied himself with cleaning the last of the wherry’s blood from his claws.</p><p>When Basuth swallowed her last cow and climbed up to the ledge, Amos motioned for Holden to mount up. The queen yawned enormously and splayed out an arm so her rider could clamber up. &lt;Where are we going?&gt; she asked. She swung her head to look at Holden, then Finlith, and then finally at Amos, who was strapping himself in on her back. This docile, sleepy creature was not the same one that had been at Terra yesterday. The change unsettled Holden.</p><p>&lt;We are going to the quarry,&gt; Finlith said before he remembered that he was supposed to be angry with the gold dragon. He immediately launched himself in the air without any warning for Holden, who was slammed back against the saddle restraints that he had barely had time to buckle. Basuth rumbled and then took off after the smaller beast.</p><p>&lt;Do you know what it looks like?&gt; Holden asked, rubbing the spots on his thighs where the leather straps had dug in. Finlith flashed the image of the quarry into his mind and a slightly begrudging apology, then passed the information along to Basuth and Amos. When the pair had confirmed, Finlith took them <em>between</em>.</p><p>The bitter cold lasted for one, two, three long heartbeats, and then they emerged back into sunny skies. The quarry below them was a hive of activity. Oxen pulled carts piled high with stone, while a pair of small green dragons ferried assembled pallets from the pits up to a staging area. They bugled greetings to Finlith and Basuth, their riders raising their hands in suit, before returning to their task.</p><p>Finlith landed near the staging area. He set Holden down and eagerly began to look around, his faceted eyes whirling as he tried to decide what to focus on first. Basuth set herself down near him and snaked her head out over the finished pallets, much to the alarm of the workers marking each of them for shipping. She paid them no mind, but quickly grew bored of looking at the neat piles of stone. Amos climbed down from her neck, and she trundled off to doze. Holden sat down on the grass, still slightly damp with the morning’s dew.</p><p>“Rocks, huh?” Amos sat a little way away from Holden and gestured toward Finlith. The dragon was peering down into the quarry, his tail twitching like a cat’s, oblivious to the riders’ conversation.</p><p>Holden felt a flush of defensiveness at the way Amos said it. Some of the other riders found it odd that he fostered his dragon’s hobbies, insisting that it was better for the beasts to focus on fighting Thread, finding mates, and keeping themselves well fed and well groomed. Holden had never understood why they were resistant to admit that dragons could have interests too. After all, they had been engineered to be intelligent and emotional.</p><p>“He likes to learn about them.”</p><p>“That’s a new one, at least for me. Never heard of a dragon that liked rocks before.”</p><p>Holden took a breath. He was used to the other riders teasing him about this, but he had hoped his weyrleader would be above it. “It’s just something he enjoys.”</p><p>&lt;He’s not teasing.&gt;</p><p>Basuth’s voice surprised him. Holden started, glancing over at the dozing queen. Her eyes were shut. He thought back to last night, the way she had kept trying to reach out to him with her mind. It sent a shiver down his spine. He looked back at Amos. The man was staring at Finlith, plucking blades of grass from the ground, seemingly unaware that his dragon was speaking to Holden. Holden wanted to reply to her, but he wasn’t sure what to say.</p><p>&lt;He doesn’t tease,&gt; she said. &lt;Not unless he likes you very much. He is not teasing. He is just asking.&gt; One of Basuth’s eyes slid open a crack.</p><p>“That’s good,” Amos said simply. “Seems like a pain in the ass if he wants to fill up your weyr with them, but whatever.” Amos hadn’t seemed to notice that Holden was annoyed with him. He said the words earnestly, like he was noting the weather. Basuth’s eye whirled, focusing intently on Holden, and then slid shut again. Amos just made a soft humming noise and turned back to look at him.</p><p>“You fly with Naomi, right?”</p><p>The abrupt change in conversation caught Holden off guard. “Yes, I joined her wing shortly after she became weyrleader. Finlith and Keth are brothers. Before that I flew with McDowell.”</p><p>Amos grunted, then laughed. “McDowell never liked me much.”</p><p>Holden knew. McDowell had been fairly vocal about his distaste of Amos, who at that time had been the junior queenrider. “He was a traditionalist. He liked things to be a certain way.”</p><p>Amos made another noncommittal sound. Holden wasn’t sure if that meant he wanted the conversation to be done, or if he was just thinking. It was hard to know how to act around the queenrider. He was informal, but he held immense power in the weyr. He was Holden’s leader, and Holden would lay his life down for him if he was called to do so. But he had an odd, sneaking suspicion that perhaps Amos wanted to get closer to him, if only to share a bed for a few nights before he cut Holden loose. Jim thought back to their embrace last night, the way Amos had pressed their bodies together. It sent heat crawling up his neck. He pulled his riding jacket tighter around himself, though the day was quickly growing too warm for it.</p><p>He couldn’t deny that Amos was attractive, and there was something very intriguing about his mannerisms. Basuth seemed intrigued by him, and Holden knew that her thoughts were likely a reflection of Amos. It was tempting to try and pull at the line, see if Amos bit. But then he thought back to Terra. He thought back to the violence he had watched Basuth commit. The way Amos had tolerated it.</p><p>His thoughts flashed to Naomi suddenly, the face of horror she had made at the death of Avasarala’s people. He had had a strange urge to comfort her in that moment. And then there had been this morning, the exhaustion written plain on her features. When he had agreed to escort Amos, she had offered him a smile that was weary and genuine and made his chest contract with…something.</p><p>Holden ran a hand through his hair, hoping his blush could be blamed on the heat of the day. He had to stop hanging out with attractive weyrleaders.</p><p>&lt;They seem to like your company very much, Jim,&gt; Finlith said.</p><p>&lt;I’m just useful to them.&gt;</p><p>Finlith disagreed, but he said nothing. He was busy watching a man walking up the path that led from the quarry to the staging area. He had a wrapped bundle in his hand, and he was eyeing the two dragons a little apprehensively.</p><p>&lt;Finlith,&gt; Holden warned as the dragon began to swing his head over to greet the nervous visitor.</p><p>The quarry worker paused as Finlith receded back. Holden tried to offer him a reassuring smile.</p><p>“I thought…” the worker began, then stopped. “Well, I saw him watching us work,” he gestured toward Finlith, “and I thought they might like to see…” He trailed off again. Holden could tell that he was regretting the decision to come up and address the dragons and their riders. The man took a breath, and then placed the bundle down and unwrapped it.</p><p>Inside were two halves of a geode that was the size of Basuth’s eye. The exterior was rough, mottled stone, pockmarked from erosion. The inside gleamed. A ring of smooth, blue-white stone surrounded an inner layer of light purple crystals. Finlith slowly lowered his head down, his green eyes focusing on the rare find. He reached out to touch it with his tongue. The quarry worker took a step back, surprised. His eyes grew wide as Basuth roused with a rumble and snaked her neck out to look. She sniffed at the rock.</p><p>&lt;It is very pretty,&gt; she said to the group. The queen feigned disinterest, but her faceted eyes spun as she examined the geode. Amos watched with a bemused expression.</p><p>“How much?” Amos asked. The worker started.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to imply—”</p><p>“Sure,” Amos said. “But how much?”</p><p>The worker paused, glanced down at the geode, and back up at the dragons. “Consider it a gift.”</p><p>“Nah,” Amos said. “You could sell it. Just tell me what you would sell it for.”</p><p>“Two silver, I imagine,” said the worker. Amos patted his riding breeches until he pulled out a small leather coin purse. He handed the worker two silver marks along with a handful of copper. The man looked like he was about to protest, but Amos cast him a look that made him shut his mouth. He scurried away with a deferential nod, down to a small group of workers who had been watching the transaction from the pit.</p><p>Basuth greedily took one of the halves and brought it closer to her, turning the geode in slow circles with a claw so that she could watch the way the amethyst caught the sunlight. Finlith stared at the other half for a moment, perhaps a little sadly, then turned his attention back to the stonecutters.</p><p>Amos laughed and shook his head at Finlith’s pathetic expression. “That’s yours, big guy,” he said to the dragon. Finlith’s tail twitched. He turned to face Amos, confusion and want and hesitation warring in his features.</p><p>Holden was surprised too. “That’s not necessary,” he said. “It belongs to Basuth.”</p><p>“She doesn’t need both of them. She has enough shit as it is.” Amos reached out to place the geode closer to Finlith. The dragon reached out with a hesitant claw, and then reverently manipulated the glittering stone into one of his paws.</p><p>&lt;Thank you,&gt; he said haltingly. Amos nodded, and Finlith looked down at the prize. &lt;It is very beautiful. I like it very much.&gt;</p><p>“I’m glad,” Amos said. He sounded genuinely pleased, though a little bemused.</p><p>“Thank you,” said Holden as Finlith retreated to admire the crystals. Amos just shrugged.</p><p>“You said he likes rocks.”</p><p>Holden might have been imagining it, but he thought the man looked a little embarrassed. Amos met his eyes for a moment before he looked away, watching Basuth as she pulled the rock to her side and settled down for another nap. His gaze softened as he watched her. Despite himself, Holden found himself savoring the moment of vulnerability. But just as quickly as the mask was dropped, Amos’ blank, cheery expression returned. Holden didn’t know what that meant, if it meant anything. He supposed that later he would assign all sorts of meaning to it. Later, he would dissect the interaction until he couldn’t put it back together again. Maybe he could get rid of the nonsensical fondness he was feeling that way. Maybe.</p>
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